


Shakespeare in Love

by mzleabond



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-12 04:12:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4465037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mzleabond/pseuds/mzleabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>World Famous Action Star Tom Hiddleston and Rising Star Claire Flanagan meet after an impromptu trip to London. Tom changes Claire’s life over and over again. Sometimes it’s for better, sometimes for worse, but always for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a previously posted fanfiction on tumblr, can be found on my blog at hel--lokisdottir.tumblr.com and at thfrustration.tumblr.com , in case this looked familiar! This fic is about THREE YEARS OLD. I have over 20 chapters written, so no worries if you liked it! Thank you for reading, appreciate it so much!!

I was such. A fucking. Idiot. Who did I even think I was, coming here? Doing what I had done, someone special? Someone with privilege, with talent? I should be taken into a home. But no one would catch me now.

I sat in a park…or, well, I had no idea where I was. I was in the cold, my butt freezing, sitting on a bench, outside, because I had on a sweatshirt, a tank-top, yoga crops and sneakers. Besides the obvious underwear, that was it. And it was September, which wasn’t so frigid where I’m from. I’m from the United States, Massachusetts, in fact. And New England has it’s cold weather, be sure of that, but where I am right now, the weather proved to be much more…brisk. Yes, that was a kind word for it, brisk. But honestly, my bottom was growing numb on the park bench, but I wouldn’t move. I felt embarrassed of my own actions, as if anyone in the part of the world knew me, what I had just done.

 

This morning, hours and hours ago, I caught the train to the Boston Commons, which was, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the world in the fall. From there I did something I hadn’t done for, God, it had been years. I auditioned for a play, and not just any place. The play, the Scottish Play, to be more specific. I had no idea why I did it, well, I do know. Acting is my life, I can’t explain the feeling I get when I’m on stage, when I hear a gasp, a shout, a laugh from the audience. Oh the final bow, the make-up, the, well drama of drama. I’ve been in a rut for so long, and I saw an open audition. I had a recent headshot, I printed out a resume and showed up for the audition. I had that terrifyingly evil soliloquy of Lady Macbeth’s memorized, it had always been my favorite, I recited and was told I would get a call. 

I don’t remember auditioning, or what the casting directors looked like, or their reaction, or me getting back on the subway, on a bus to Logan airport. I didn’t remember throwing away a bottle of hand lotion to I could get on a plane to Heathrow Airport in London, England. I don’t remember it, it was all adrenaline. Id’ never auditioned for professional theatre, and today I did it. Well, I’ve never been overseas, and today, well I did that too. I regretted it, big time. I would have a lot of explaining to do to people over in America, I would have no money for probably the rest of the month, and I was freezing. 

But there I was, in London, sitting on a park bench, because across the street was a tiny inn. It was tiny, gross and no matter how cold and dreary London might have been in the fall, the park bench was a much better substitute. I sat on the park bench, just about shivering, figuring I should find a bank or something and get my money exchanged. I didn’t even know how long I’d be here. I cant believe I did it. I never did a damn thing, but here I was. Auditioning and seeing the world. But right then, I was staring down at something, a few pages of monologue for Lady Macbeth I was given at the audition. I kept reading the same lines over and over, for hours on the plane, and here now. I didn’t realize how long I’d even been sitting there until someone spoke to me. Oh, I’ve been caught.

“Do you need something warm to eat?”

I looked up and then to my right with a puzzled look. Though, I can’t hide the fact that I jumped a little. I was a stranger in a strange place, and judging by this person’s accent, he was no stronger here. “Hm?” I muttered, but my eye caught his face. A very finely dressed gentleman, like he knew it would be cold out and dressed in appropriate layers, unlike myself. But his expensive taste was not what made me almost fall right on my numb ass.

Thomas William Hiddleston was born in London, England in 1981. He was quickly becoming one of the world’s most popular celebrities, and was known for his work on radio, stage, television, and movies. He was handsome, sweet, and anyone with half a mind fell head over heels in love when they became familiar with him.

He also just asked me if I needed something warm to eat. I was standing, and this made his lean back, and give me a look that said he regretted giving me his attention. “Y-you’re…..you’re Tom Hiddleston,” I stammered and he caught his breathe, a hand to his heart and he smiled, giving a small laugh. Oh that laugh that I’ve heard countless times. He was in front of me, Tom Hiddleston, classically trained English actor, stood in front of me, in London, asking me if I need food. 

“I am…and you are…freezing?” He asked and I quickly jumped the gun on it, giving him my name, Claire, which made him smile again. “American?” He asked and I nodded, excited. “So…you’re not…uhm…” he motioned to the street bench and I looked at it, curious to what he was suggesting.

“Oh! Oh..GOD, No…I’m, I’m not homeless I-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I just figured…but no, you’re foreign, people don’t usually know about the hard autumn in England-”

“No, I understand, I’m a complete mess, I just got here half an hour ago…I have no luggage, no money, and a twin bed in the creepy inn across the street,” I said and pointed it out to him. “No wonder you thought I was homeless, I would have thought the same,” I said and ran a hand through my hair, which hadn’t done well through the plane ride. As I literally stared at the tall, thin man in front of me, his eyes wondered off to the inn, inspecting it and looked back at me, putting his hand in the pockets on his leather jacket.

“Well, American Claire, I can’t fix your luggage, or your inn, but…would you like a cup of tea? Something nice and warm, you’ll lose you nose out here in the cold in an hour, without. Come, I insist,” he said, and at that point in time, walking with Tom Hiddleston to a coffee shop in London, I figured I probably wasn’t awake. None of it was real, and I’d wake up in my tiny room in Massachusetts, look around and shut my eyes so I could have some more of this lovely, freezing dream.

But it was no dream, it was all real, and from that second on, I stopped regretting being such an impulsive loon. This would be the start of something beautiful, of my life, and I’d love to tell you about it.


	2. Two

It was very unusual. That was a stupid way to express this situation, but that’s what I’ve come up with. Good thing Mr. Hiddleston was such a chatter, or this would have been an awkward outing. This wasn’t an outing, what am I thinking. He was a kind man who saw a freezing American and had a lot of pity to give. I was currently a pathetic street urchin, and he was a knight in shimmering armor. He insisted that I have tea, and not only that, but at least a muffin. I knew I was hungry, but I wasn’t aware that I was hungry, I would have been fine just sitting in the coffee shop, whatever the English would call those, listening to him talk. Well, half-listening, half staring. Just his face alone proved to have more insulation than my outfit. His hair was longer, still curly at the very ends, pushed back. It was darker than blonde, but certainly wasn’t Loki black. And to frame his perfect smile was a beautiful goatee, and with small comments made by me, I got to see those white teeth, which surely put my own to shame. Crooked and ridiculous, but we stayed in the shop for a long while, and he didn’t make one excuse to leave.

“It’s so strange, coming here and just running into a celebrity. I mean, American actors…it seems like they live n another planet. No one just runs into Brad and Angelina taking a stroll, really,” I remarked and sipped some of my tea. It was a mistake for me to have not asked for sugar. British tea was very strong, I wasn’t used to it.

“It was always something I needed to get used to. Americans are very, well, excited when they see someone who was in a film they saw,” he began to explain, avoiding calling himself famous or a celebrity. He really was a treasure. “It’s thrilling to see them all light up, I can’t get enough of it some days, but I’m regular, you know? I’ve grown up a normal human being, my whole life, no one’s recognized me on the street, now I get gawked at in the park,” he said and gave me a wink. If he hadn’t been teasing me, I might have fainted. Come to think of it, I might have fainted.

“Oh well,” I could feel my cheeks warm right up. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable…it’s just tha-”

“No, no, no,” he stopped be in the middle of my sentence and I just looked at him, still red in the cheeks. “Please, don’t, I don’t mind it. I’m sorry if I made you feel guilty,” he offered and gave me a smile. “I’m just glad I could be of assistance, really,” he said and nodded and I gave him a shy smile, looking at my tea. “I have helped, right?” And I laughed in his face.

“Good God, of course you have!” I couldn’t help my laughter, I felt the nerves in my chest and lungs. “I tell you, I don’t know how I can face going home after this,” I said and looked back at him, quickly though. He was much, much too handsome. But he was smiling when I said it and I cleared my throat. “I just realized though, uhm…could you point me to a, uhm,” I said and peeked out the large window to the street. “Could you give me directions to a mall?” I asked him and he gave me a puzzled look. “Well, see, I don’t have a global adapter for my phone…I’m sure it’s already dead,” I said and peeked into my purse. “Also, I’ll probably need pants,” I added and nodded, which brought out a laugh from him. 

“Yeah, let me hail you a cab,” he said and pointed to my tea, which I took and gave a nice gulp. That would probably be the last thing I consumed in Europe, might as well make it worth it. I pulled on my sweater shirt and watched him pull on his leather jacket, and as we walked back to the street, he took his scarf and was about to wrap it around his neck when I looked back at him. 

“Thank you, so much. I mean…it’s amazing enough to meet you, mind-blowing to have you babysit me,” I said and nodded. What a pathetic thing I was. He smiled down at me and took his scarf off. 

“Do me a favor then?” He asked and I raised an eyebrow. I nodded and as I did, he wrapped the scarf around my neck. He wrapped his scarf, which was probably more valuable than my car, no it definitely was, around my neck. My mouth dropped and I looked down at it. It was soft, and so warm and it smelled, well, God it smelled like Tom Hiddleston, I figured. “When you get that part in Macbeth, and I know you will, you tell me. On…on twitter, do you follow me there?” He asked and I incredulously raised my eyebrow at him, and he took the hint. “Yes, so, on twitter, message me the dates and all that, and then you can give this back,” he said and tugged on my scarf. 

I was speechless, like an animal and just stared it him. I put my hand on the scarf and felt a stupid lump in y throat. “Well, I’ll never get that part, so you’re down a scarf,” I told him, probably softer than I should have, he probably didn’t hear me. He gave me another smile and waved his hand, as a black cab pulled up closer to us.

“I have all the confidence in the world. Now go and buy your pants, don’t let me catch you sleeping on that park bench, you’ll be in for it,” he said and went so far as to open the cab door for me. What happened next, I couldn’t explain, besides the obvious fact that I’m a delusional wreck. I gave Tom Hiddleston a hug. He didn’t even falter, he wrapped his arms around me, which could have gone around twice, they were so long, and pulled me into a nice warm hug. I felt like a child, he was so tall, though I was a foot shorter, to be far. It seemed like that hug lasted forever, but when it was over, it had been too short.

“Thank you,” I said finally, and got into the cab. Why did I get into the cab? I should have just let him leave me at the coffee shop and followed him home like the deranged fan I was. But I didn’t, I sat in the warmth of the cab, let Tom tell the driver what I was looking for. Clothes and a charger for my phone so that I could stay in London. But what was in England that could possibly top today?


	3. Three

I walked offstage, down the steps into Shakespeare’s hell, and Lady Macbeth was officially dead, at least to me. That was the thirteenth time I had played the wicked queen on the Boston Commons, and it would be the last. This was my best performance, the last always was. I walked backstage, behind a large scrim and smiled, getting my mic taking away from me, turned off and someone came over to me with a towel and wiped the stage blood from my hands and arms. “Dammit Claire, you keep getting it on the sleeves…” the stagehand muttered and I laughed, still on a high from my performance. 

“Shut up, it’ll be the last time, I swear,” I promised and pouted at my new friend, who I’d probably never see again. Most of the people in this company were leaving, and for the time being, I had to leave as well. I couldn’t afford to keep up the life of the rehearsals and shows, without the weekly paycheck. I had been ran out of all my energy, doing this and keeping up a job as a bartender at a very popular bar in Faneuil Hall. Maybe once I got comfortable, got a savings account boosted again, I would come back. What was I thinking, I’d probably be back in a few months. I went into my corner backstage and grabbed my water bottle. I got a few pats on the back, people who knew it was my last night, my double, Elaine, she would have her last night tomorrow. She came running backstage and practically tackled me. “You cannot even TELL me I’ll do better! How do you feel?!” She squealed, always the excited one.

“I don’t know, I know I’ll cry when it’s actually over though,” I told her and sighed. I took a sip of my water and sighed. There was another shout of applause and I smirked. “Well, that will be my husband,” I said and Elaine grinned down at me. And just like that, a war-torn looking MacBeth, formally Robert, walked down towards the two of us. “My valiant king!” I cried and hugged him and he laughed.

“Shit, I can’t believe tonight is the end of it,” he said, his normal accent breathing through. We had put on ridiculous Scottish accents for the play, God bless the people who paid to see this show. “We all still going for drinks tonight? Claire’s paying obviously,” he chuckled and nudged me.

“Ha ha, nooo, you stay away from the bar, I’ll get fired,” I warned him and Elaine wiggled her eyebrows at me.

“Naw, Claire’s twitter boyfriend shall sweep her off her feet tonight,” she said and I sighed.

“You suck. So hard. I hate you all,” I muttered into my water bottle, turning a fresh shade of red that could surely be seen through my stage make-up.

In October, I was given the phenomenal news that I would be paying Lady MacBeth, and when I would be playing her. Like a silly fan girl, I sat in my apartment, logged into twitter and wrote the following:

@twhiddleston I have the scarf. Be @ the Boston Common, March 31st at 2pm, no one gets hurt

It was a silly thing to send, he sent a quick RSVP that he would be there, but correspondence had ended with that tweet. He was busy, and damn, I knew he’d probably not even show up. 

“That would be amazing, if you got THE Tom Hiddleston to come here and see OUR show. I mean, Mister Shakespeare himself, right?” Robert said and grinned, probably more excited about seeing him than me, if Tom was there after all.

“Ha, if he came he probably left after hearing our shitty Scottish accents,” I said and laughed it off, my heart rather racing. He could be here tonight. But he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. Someone would have known, right? In the ticket booth. They must have known. Someone would have told me. There was another applause, much, much bigger than before and I heaved a sigh. “The curtain awaits,” I said, and solemn were my words. Yes, I’d be making more money, I’d be able to eat every week, but this, coming back to acting was just what I needed in my life again. Nothing could make me feel like I did when I was on stage. And now, with a simple walk onto the stage, a bow, it would be over. I finally got to take a look over the audience, people had lawn chairs and blankets. There were so very many people. It was the biggest audience I’d ever performed in front of, that was for sure, and God, in your weren’t in the front section, I wouldn’t be able to tell who you were. It was lovely to know so many people still had a passion for watching Shakespeare. My eyes did scan the crowd, he was tall, probably still had his light hair, Thor 3 wouldn’t be filming for some time now. But I doubted I would see him, and before I knew it, I was wandering offstage with my co-actors. We all changed backstage, talked, promised that we’d all keep in touch, which we all knew were lies. We made plans to meet at a pub down the street near the station and we walked out to where the crowd was sitting. Some actors and crew people walked to find people they knew, I knew none of my family would be there, they came last week. I figured I would walked through the crowd, run to my apartment very quickly, wash myself up and head out to the pub.

I got a few people to recognize me, they congratulated me on my performance, and it was really moving. A younger girl, probably a college student around her asked if she could have a picture, which almost made me fall backwards. It was insane, someone, all these people around me, not only enjoyed my performance, but liked it so much, they were willing to use energy to let me know how well I did. It was mind blowing. Another person tapped my shoulder, excused themselves and complimented me. This went on for a little while and I knew I couldn’t be the only cast member who was going to be late to the after party.

I got another tap and turned around to face another person. “Excuse me, miss, you were so great up there, but I got to tell you, your Scottish is a bit off,” said a voice in a gorgeous Scottish accent, and when I saw its owner, I almost threw up. Well, maybe not actually, but that’s how I felt. Tom Hiddleston had come, and the face I made must have been amusing, as he showed off his bright white teeth, no beard to frame it this time.

“Oh my God! Tom you came!” I shrieked and stomped my feet. His smile only grew when he saw how excited I was. “I can’t believe you did!”

“Of course I came, I said I would, didn’t I?” He asked me, as if he was an old friend who just lived down the street. That made me laugh only more. “You were really wonderful, and that MacDuff, oh, he gave me chills at the end there,” he said and imitated my co-actor’s victory pose and I laughed again.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it! And it’s just plain lovely to see you!” I said and held out my hands. Today was probably just as cold as it was that day in London, even three thousand miles away. He took my invitation and hugged me, and the frigid New England air melted away. He was so warm, and as thin as he was, it was like he completely covered me. Oh what a hug. I smiled up at him, when I finally let the poor guy go. “Oh! I was just going to my apartment to wash up, I have your prisoner there,” I told him and nodded. He gave me a little eyebrow lift and then laughed.

“Oh God yes! The poor bugger, I’m surely you’ve absolutely traumatized him,” he said, and I nodded, admitting to it. “Oh how terribly evil of you, what was it? You wear him with paisley or something?” And I laughed, shaking my head. 

“Come on, if you’ve got the time, I can go get him for you. I’m only a block away,” I told him and he nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m actually staying here for the weekend, so anything you’ve got, I’m up for. Unless you want to kick me to the curb…” he said and looked down at me, to which I quickly shook my head.

“Oh, no, definitely not! And…I mean, if you want to, we’re having an after party down the street tonight, as well. You should definitely come, everyone there is a huge fan of yours and I’ll finally get to tell them that I didn’t make you up,” I was quick with it, knowing that my over excitement would probably scare him off, but he just smiled again. He was pretty good at that.

“I’d be honored to join, absolutely,” he nodded and I motioned my head, so he’d follow me. It wasn’t a long walk to my apartment, but in a city, it could seem like it. It was cold, and with the tall buildings, the wind was unbearable. He probably got the most of it, he was much closer to the sky than I was. His arms were wrapped around him, but when we weren’t speaking, his grey eyes were looking around in some for of amazement. I wondered if he had ever been to Boston. It really wasn’t a huge city that he’d have an excuse to go to. I recalled movies I knew he’d been in, and couldn’t think of one that would have been filmed here. This might have been his first visit. That thought made me smile. 

I walked up my stoop and fit in my key, letting him walk through first. “I hope your legs aren’t numb, I’m at the top,” I told him and he looked around and his eyes followed my gaze to the stairs and he nodded.

“I think I can manage,” he told me and followed me up the steps. After three flights of stairs, I found my door and unlocked it. 

“Ah…and uhm…just, I’m sorry about what you might see in here,” I warned him and then opened the door. The first sight was a couch, then a television, then a plate with some sesame seeds on it from breakfast earlier. I was a bit of a bagel whore. My kitchen was just about in the same room. “I’ll be two seconds,” I told him and motioned to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable,” I invited and he nodded.

“I promise I’ll behave,” he said with a grin and sat down on my low sofa. He looked a bit silly, it was so low, and his legs just went on for days. He looked a bit like a grasshopper. I smiled at him and dashed off to my room. I had the scarf washed recently, professionally and everything. The guy at the dry cleaners knew just how to treat it, and it was as soft and plush as could be. I kept it in an old shoe box since a few days ago. It was just incase, I knew he’d want it back, this thing had to cost more than my rent. I couldn’t have it smelling like me or my apartment. I took the shoe box out from under my bed, and took out the scarf, and walked back into the living area.

I looked up from the scarf to the sofa, and saw not one Tom Hiddleston. I quirked my head to the side and heard something behind me. I turned around, and from the countertop that divided my living room and kitchen, I saw the back of Tom, poking around above the refrigerator. I smirked. “Looking for something?” I asked and he spun around quickly. He looked guilty for a moment, but when he saw the smile on my face, he smiled back. 

“I honestly could not help myself,” he admitted, placing a large hand on his chest and I shook my head.

“No, no, don’t worry. I should have said you could anyway, are you hungry?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

“No, I should wait anyway, for the after party,” he said and grinned at me. I walked over to the kitchen, and handed him his scarf.

“Here you are, it’s a nice scarf. I completely understand why you flew to a different continent to get it back,” I said, letting the cashmere be taken from me, so it’s owner could have it back. He looked at it for a moment, and nodded. He played with it in his fingers and looked at me.

“You know, a few years ago, I never would have been able to afford this,” he told me and wrapped it around his neck. He wrapped it around his neck, which would deflect the wind later, for sure. “It still makes me laugh, I would hate myself for having such an expensive scarf, so silly, a scarf that costs so much,” he said and sighed, taking a peek around my apartment and looked down at me. “So, are we off?” he asked and I nodded. “oh, you wanted to wipe off your face?” he asked and I shook my head.

“Naw, I shouldn’t keep you here, besides, the layers of make-up will keep my face warm while we walk,” I told him and grinned. 

The walk from my place to the pub was a little longer, but there was a long alleyway to walk down, instead of the sidewalk, and the wind was less harsh there. I walked with him into the pub and heard a cheer. People from the cast and crew were already there, not a whole lot of them though, I knew most of them decided pre-partying would be the best decision, and would show up much later. At first, there were hellos from me, but after maybe ten seconds, the attention of my peers was turned to my guest. Tom was mobbed by these people, and surely some others I didn’t even know in the pub, and I had to admit that I felt a little guilty. Luckily, it only took about twenty minutes until Tom knew everyone’s name in the small place, and he finally got to sit down. He sat next to me, across from Robert, and they hit it off more than I could imagine. Robert was always a very social, friendly guy. He was smart, and only talked about stuff her understood, and that just made him all the more intelligent.

I sat across our director, who I had to invite to sit with Tom. He was absolutely gushing, and just listening in on the conversation, like it was his last hope for life. I couldn’t say I wasn’t doing just the same, as we all sat in the corner booth, sharing a few beer better fries, and bottomless pints of Guinness, on the house of course. Thank God for Tom and the bartender’s appreciation for The Avengers movies, or I would have had to leave after one drink. Eventually the conversation led from Shakespeare, to comparisons between England and Boston, to funny stories we might have had behind the scrims of Macbeth and Tom’s endless anecdotes about his behind the scenes moments. Soon, we were all just sharing stories, bellies bloated and brains foggy. It honestly was a great time, as far as I remember, a lot of laughs, snorting and hollering from this booth, until Tom made the first yawn.

I laughed and looked over at him, a very tired smile on his face, his eyes half open, glazed over a bit, like a person would look when they had just woken up. It was really cute, like a sleepy child. “Oh Tom! You ruined it!” I said and poked his chest, then proceeded to yawn myself. That started a new chain of yawns around the table, and even one more from Tom. He chuckled and sniffed in.

‘I know, I’m horrid. I….I have to have, you know, points for like, the jet lag and all,” he said and took another sip of beer and I shook my head. 

“You need to be tucked in,” I insisted and grabbed my coat, pulling it on, which was not an easy feat, I’m sure I put it on upside down at first, and Robert snorted at me, his head on the table. “You have…your Charley Card on you Bobby baby?” I asked my co-actor and he gave me and thumbs up. There is no way he would last more than a mile walking without stumbling, though he’d probably fall asleep on the T. “You know…you know what, I’m down the street. I can’t trust you on the streets,” I said to him as Tom finally found his legs, pulling his jacket back on. “Come…I have a sofa, and a floor, come on,” I said and Robert looked up at me and grinned.

“Aw, shucks Claire….that’d be…so great, you-you know that?” he asked and stood up, with much, much less grace than I, which was saying a whole lot. We got ready, and my director pulled out his phone, excusing himself, texting his wife to pick him up. We poked a bit of fun at the older gentleman and walked out of the pub. We got a look from a woman at the bar, and found that look to be the funniest thing any of us had ever seen. We walked out of the bar, clinging to each other, just laughing, laughing a drunken careless laugh, hollering like no one else in Boston mattered, and to us, they didn’t. 

“Hey, wait…d-don’t abandon me,” Tom said, like he just got a second wind, stopping, his English accent making Robert and me laugh. Why we thought it was so funny was ridiculous, but it was. “Where’s…that…Charley Card place?” he asked and I shook my head, looping his arm with mine.

“N-no no…you…you can’t go to a fancy hotel in this state, they will kick your ass out, no, you…you come with me and Robert,” I said, Robert pulling on him a bit. 

“Yes Tom, we’ll all snuggle on Claire’s freezing floor and eat pretzels,” Robert said and I snorted.

“Bobby, you know I have no fucking food,” I told him, my eyes no longer feeling the need to be open, and honestly, after that, I don’t remember much of anything. I know the three of us got home, how, I’m not sure. We got home, we eventually fell asleep, and I couldn’t remember a damn of it when I woke up the next morning at around eleven-thirty in the afternoon.


	4. Four

It seems that besides amusing and enlightening the massive fan girl that had been trying to come out all these years, my meeting Tom Hiddleston that day in London had been my gateway to a career. I have myself an agent and everything, it’s a legitimate company, and represented other actors. Actors I have heard of. I had a legitimate resume, expensive, very expensive headshots in black and white, and also color. I was legitimate. And all over a cashmere scarf. It had been a year and a half since I stepped of the stage as Lady Macbeth, and I was in England once more. Oh yes, my life had gone to a leap. Apparently, Tom either pitied me terribly, or was actually very impressed with my acting that night. Not a week after I found him in my kitchen, cooking a very large breakfast, with Robert hugging the toilet in the bathroom, he contacted me on Twitter. It was the most strange thing, asking if would could chat. Right before he flew off to London, he talked to me about getting an agent, and I thought he was just trying to be sweet. But he was very insistent and handed me some information, how I could get into the agency who represented him. 

On Twitter, he asked me if I had auditioned, and I admitted that I had not. He told me he’d been throwing my name around, but I did need an agent to represent me. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did as he told me. And for the second time, he knew me better than I did, because I was in England again, drinking wine at Kenneth Branagh’s house with the cast of the new Thor movie.

I’ll let you drink that in for another moment.

Apparently, Tom had handpicked me to play a small role in the next Thor movie. He didn’t have a large one either, but it seemed Loki’s character had become domestic with Branagh back as director, and he introduced Sigyn to the movie. My role wasn’t large at all, in fact, they way they will edit it, I’m sure it will be up in the air who I’m playing, but all of my scenes involved Tom in some way, though I spent most of my time on screen standing near Renee Russo, which made my head dizzy. I’m sure Sigyn’s appearance is just a way to explain Loki’s change, to give his villain character some closure. But I was still invited to a wrap party. I got to meet so many interesting people at that party, and soon enough, I had a few appointments for press junkets. It was rather terrifying, but I’d be matched with Tom for most of them, and that made me feel a lot better. Him and I had grown very close. We played a subtle couple in a new epic film, and because of that, had the same costume and hair team. He was no longer the actor who took the longest to get into costume, that was for sure.

But filming had ended, and everyone was having a really nice evening. It wasn’t like the silly ‘oh the night’s over, lets get destroyed’ nights we would have at times. This was nice, everyone was dressed sort of formally, and there wasn’t much sitting. Well, until the night got darker and later, and the wine began getting to people. But we were having fun. The night was slowly dying though, even Chris had left, him and Elsa, who was great and spent a lot of time with me during the evening, to tend to their daughter. It was kind of funny, the domestic side of the whole thing. The guy who played Thor, and the sex symbol in action movies, they had a kid, and had to go home early from a party to take care of her, and relieve the babysitter. It was so normal, which made it odd. 

I took a seat on a couch in a living space, finding one of the girls who worked in costume. She’d always been nice to me, I was always so curious about that sort of thing, the costumes and sets and all. It had been great for her too, she was amused by me, and I could tell she appreciated my enthusiasm for her and her work. There were other sitting around a coffee table, and a few minutes after I sat down, a familiar behind sat next to me, and warned me by putting a large warm hand on my back. I grinned, getting a chill, and looked over to see my new couch buddy. There was Tom, leaning over to place his drink on the coffee table. I gave him a big grin, feeling my skin cover itself with goosebumps, and I hope he didn’t notice. Since we started working together, he had proved to me that he had no sense of personal space. That was no problem to me, of course. He never had a problem leaning right into my face or ear to tell me a secret, or place an arm around me during a photo call. It was really comforting, having a person to be comfortable around, especially here, where I’m nothing, just starting. I’ve never done anything close to this before, but Tom knew what that feeling was like. He knew what it was like to do this for the first time, and he knew I was shaking the whole ride.

“You still up?” He asked and grinned, the wrinkles from years of smiling showing off, so lovely. Oh that smile, it could cure any broken heart, any depression. He was just a happy man, and he would give the world no reason to make him upset.

“Yeah, but it’s definitely almost bedtime,” I told him, my smile matching his. I was certainly sleepy from the wine, I was such a lightweight. “Surprised you’re still up though, nice stamina for such an old guy,” I poked at his side and his eyes grey big, shining bright blue, and his mouth opened in shock, holding his stomach, as if I punched him in the gut. I was sent into a wave of giggles. He was a child.

“Oooo, Claire, that burns, it burns me,” he said and pretended to pant, and I snorted.

“Alright, alright diva, chill out,” I told him and giggled. “I’m much too tired for your antics, you’re the one who needs a nap,” I told him and he laughed at me. 

“You’re right, I should be leaving soon. You have a car picking you up?” He asked me and rubbed my back once more. 

“Uhm, yeah, I should call the cab to tell them I’m ready,” I said and moved my hand to my pocket and he pulled my hand gently. 

“No, don’t bother, you’re leaving soon…I’ll have my driver drop you off,” he insisted, and to insure I didn’t call anyone, he took my phone and I pouted. There he was again, this time, he would using his boldness for evil. He always did so much for me. He Loki’d me the other day, he paid for my lunch before I had even gotten a chance to order. I knew money couldn’t be too much of an object for him, much less than to me, but it was still so sweet of him. 

“You’re so persistant….I’m a little afraid you’re going to knock me out, skin me and wear my skin over your own,” I said and wrinkled me nose and he leaned in close to my ears and whispered in such a low voice.

“It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again,” and if he had said anything else in that voice, I probably would have melted into his arms. No man’s voice should ever sound like that, it was dangerous. But instead I shrieked, jumped and leaned away from him, my mouth covered by my own hand, my eyes shut and he howled in laughter. When we started filming, I had admitted to him that I had a particular fear of Sir Anthony Hopkins, because Silence of the Lambs was the most terrifying movie I’d ever seen. I pushed him away and had to put down my drink.

“Oh my GOD, Tom, I hate you so much,” I said and got a serious case of the chills, my whole body convulsed, which made him laugh harder.

“Oh, Claire, darling, I’m sorry….I just…you-you set me up!” In between his howls and I gave his arm a punch. He was lucky he was such a sweet, kind man, and that I didn’t just tease him for his age, or I’d be whacking his face with a very decorative pillow. To be honest, if we weren’t at a nice party, I probably would have anyway, but I had to behave. No flirting with Loki. Ha, flirting, as if I could pull that off.

“You’re a brute, you know. People ask me all the time how you get the inspiration for the evil, mischievous Loki,” I started and scooted back over to him. He gave me an interested look, still grinning. “I should start telling them you’re just born evil,” I said, wicked smile on my face. I watched him laugh and pick up his wine glass, drinking most of what was left in there.

“Oh yes, well, same to you. No matter how evil I am, you’re much like Sigyn,” he told him and smirked and I cocked my head to the side. “You’re still on my side,” he told me and grinned, and my smile softened and I made direct-eye contact with him then. Of course I was on his side. I owed Tom my life, if you thought about it. He was my knight in shimmering armor, still. He fed me when I was starving in a strange country, made me breakfast when I was hung over in my own apartment, and practically gave me this job. He gave me confidence, something I rarely ever felt my whole life. I was certainly on his side, no matter how many times he tried to creep me out. I looked down at my lap, sure I was blushing, and he had to have noticed it. He rubbed my back again, finishing his drink. “Alright then, come on princess,” he said and handed my phone back to me. 

I got up and followed him, a delightful man working at the party ran and grabbed my coat before I could even mention it to anyone. I said a few quick goodbyes to the few people left that I knew, and Tom took his time saying goodbye to everyone in the room. I’d have to say he’s the most popular on set. So eager to befriend anyone and everyone. At last, we made it to the party hosts, Kenneth and his wife Lindsay. I couldn’t stop saying thank you to the both of them, and mainly Ken. He was another one I owed my life to. Once everyone was said and done, Tom and I left the house and got into his car. It was definitely better than any cab, that was for certain. This car had been recently cleaned, smelled like leather, not cigarettes and body order. I smelled cologne, but figured it was just Tom’s smell getting stronger, now that we were in a confined area. “Did you have a good night?” He asked me as we began to drive off, and I gave him a sleepy smile. He leaned back and looked over at me, wearing a crooked grin. He looked so perfect in the dim light. He placed a long finger on my nose, tapping it gently, and I giggled. “Red nose, sleepy eyes, best indicator of a good night,” he said softly, almost to himself. I could feel those baby blues on me and I looked down at my hands, trying to get comfortable. London was an hour away from Berkshire, and I was sure I wouldn’t stay awake. And judging by the look in Tom’s eyes, he was halfway to bed himself.

“Can’t wait to be in bed, I had so much fun, but it’s nice to know I can sleep in tomorrow, finally,” I said and halfway through my sentence, I yawned. He gave a low chuckle and unclicked his seatbelt, taking off his suit jacket. I watched him closely and he laid the jacket out on top of me and a nice long ‘aw’ came from my mouth and I took absolute advantage of that situation, and cuddled right up into his jacket. Tom was very, very slender, but his torso went on forever, and it could easily suit me as a blanket. 

“There you are Claire, nice and snug. It’s a long drive, and it’ll have to do for now, warm enough?” He asked and I looked up at him. Oh I felt like a child who went to her first party, and needed her daddy’s jacket to keep warm in the car ride home. Actually, that’s about what this situation was, besides the father and daughter relationship. Though, Tom had taken care of me just as well, he was older, but never old enough to be my father, and I could never think of him like that. No, not like that. I smiled and I nodded, curling up on my side, facing him. 

“Yes, thank you. Steal it back if you get cold,” I told him and he just looked down at me. We were both so tired, that was so obvious. He shook his head and cleared his throat and I sat up a bit. “Fine, then we’ll just share,” I said and placed the jacket on him, a little still left on me. I did feel much colder and Tom clicked his cheek and I looked up at the sudden noise.

“Better idea,” He said and leaned back, giving me full ownership of the jacket once more, but then, to hopefully keep himself warm, and myself even warmer, he carefully placed his arm behind my head, resting his hand on my shoulder. I felt that arm tug and I followed, and he held me close to his chest. My breath hitched, and I felt his do the same. I blinked quickly and closed my eyes finally. He was so warm, and he always smelled so nice, so clean. His shirt was soft, and the sound of his heartbeat. Oh, I could hear his heart through his chest. Like any other heart on earth, his was no different, but it was Tom’s heart, Tom’s sweet heart. “Better?” He asked, his voice so different, like his breath was off. It could have easily been because I was listening though his body, but it was still off. I heard him swallow hard and felt his chin rest on the top of my head. I nodded and I felt him relax. Had he been tensed up? When was Tom Hiddleston ever tense? But his heartbeat, it made me ignore his sudden change and I closed my eyes again.

“You have a heart,” I whispered and I heard the faintest chuckle roll around in his ribcage, and on top of my head, his chin was replaced my something much softer, as I felt Tom kiss me there. I knew I was blushing, but that was enough, enough to put my head at peace, my wine-drizzled head, and make me fall fast asleep, listening to Tom’s heart beat as we drove off to London.


	5. Five

I could hear voices, but I was still sort of asleep. It was Tom’s voice, and another man, but I could still smell Tom’s cologne, felt his warm arms around me, and in a moment, I could hear the car we were in start up, and drive off once more. How long had I been sleeping? I felt Tom’s fingers in my hair, I hadn’t moved at all, so it couldn’t have been a long time. I allowed myself to just stay as I was, but I yawned, squeaking out as I did, surprising myself. I didn’t want to be awake, I wanted to stay in this car forever, like a baby having a hard time getting to sleep. Tom was so warm, and the car was driving so smoothly. I heard Tom’s chest vibrate under my head when he heard me squeak.

“What did you do to her, sir? Drug her?” I heard a voice, must have been the driver. I felt Tom laugh once more.

“No, as far as I saw, only two glasses of wine,” he stroked my hair again. “I knew her before we started filming, she lost so much weight since then, probably has no idea what her body can handle,” he mused, his voice growing softer, and I think I blushed. Wow, and here I was, thinking I was crushing him by leaning on him. I’d have to thank him for that compliment. I saw it as a compliment anyway.  
“She won’t mind?” I heard the driver ask, and I heard nothing from Tom, he moved a bit, and I wondered what was going on there. “I’ll help you with the door then, sir, looks like she won’t be seeing London until late in the morning,” he said and chuckled, and I heard Tom thank him. And with that, the car rolled to a stop, and I opened my eyes very slowly. I heard the door open, and I was nudged.   
“Come on princess, up with me,” I heard Tom whispered and I gave a whine. We were at my hotel already. I really did not want to walk up all that way. It really wasn’t a long walk, but it would be a cold one, and I was so tired. I heard Tom laugh when I whined and he got out of the car. I was like made of liquid. It was very obvious that I didn’t want to get up. He helped me out of the car and I finally opened my eyes. Well, as I did, I rammed my head up against the roof of the car. I groaned and held my head and Tom gasped and I opened my eyes, and he was in full shock. “Oh…Claire, darling, are you alright, I am so sorry, I pulled you up too quickly,” and my face just scrunched up.   
“Shhh….I’m fine,” I said, my head pounding from waking up after a drunken nap and being brutalized by the car. He held his arm around me and we walked, me just allowing him to lead me to the building. I finally opened my eyes and apologized to Tom’s driver, who was opening the door for us. The door. I looked around for a moment and shook my head. “Tom, no, this isn’t my hotel…I must have…I’m at the Regency,” I told him and he laughed. This didn’t even look like a hotel at all, just another building with a green door.   
“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Claire, but when we got to the Regency, I couldn’t wake you up, so I figured I would bring you here instead,” he told me and I made another funny face. Must have been funny, because he just kept laughing at me.  
“Where’s here?” I asked him, still whining. I really just wanted to sleep, I would have slept on the stoop we were standing on.  
“My flat,” he said simply and waited for me to react. I looked up into his face, they were green in the moment and I looked back at the door. His flat, his home, I had actually never been here before. To be quite honest, I didn’t think Tom had a home, home. He was always in Germany or Detroit or somewhere insane that wasn’t London, and I figured he just about lived in his suitcase. That was stupid, now that I actually thought of it. I had a home, back in the United States, though it was a long way away from my work. Why wouldn’t Tom have one? I looked back at him and smirked.   
“Usually I like dinner and a movie…” I told him and his look of concern had faded into a great big smile.  
“Don’t be so conceited, you pervert,” he told me and I snorted, letting him walk me inside. I leaned against the wall of the outside corridor as he fiddled with his keys, and pressing some buttons on a security system, I assumed. When we got in, the lights were bright inside and it was, oh it was already warm in here. Smelled like fresh pine. I looked down and saw the beautiful wood floors and squeaked and he spun to look at me. “You alright? Find a mouse?” He asked, grinning at me.   
“No, I just, hold on…” I leaned down, putting my purse on the floor and took my heels off, even though Tom had on his shoes. I knew what heels did to wood floors, and I wouldn’t be ruining his floors.   
“Oh, you don’t ha-” he started, holding his hand up to stop me and I laughed, interrupting him, almost falling with only one foot on the ground.  
“Tom, please, I won’t-” I wobbled and he laughed at me, his warm hand returning to my back. It was like a hot shower in December, that hand. “It’s a nice excuse to get out of those shoes,” I managed and stood up straight, six inches shorter and looked up at Tom, then giving an annoyed sigh. We’ve done this before, he was an entire foot taller than me, and he was relentless about it. He gave his signature giggle and pet the top of my head and I gave him the sickest, most dramatic pout I could muster. “Evil….purest of evil,” I said and sighed, and looked down at my feet.  
“Alright you, time for a nice sleep, for the first time a year. You hungry? You should get something in that belly of yours,” he told me and led me down the hall. “You were out, for an hour, after only two glasses of wine, Claire,” he said, but he wasn’t mocking me and I stared at the back of his head, confused.   
“I’m sorry…I just-”  
“Claire, did anyone on set suggest to you that you should lose weight?” He asked me, turning as we walked into his kitchen and my eyes grew, my mouth was probably open, and I felt, small, and huge, in the way an pathetic at the same time. Was Tom Hiddleston suggesting what I thought he was? His eyes shot into mine. I couldn’t speak, because I knew where this conversation was going. I couldn’t believe it was coming from him. My director, agent, producers, publicists, all them. I got it, I understood it, and I had heard it. But Tom Hiddleston, suggesting I lose weight? I looked down as my heart stung. I’ve known him for a while, and during the filming of Thor, I thought we’d become friends, but he was like a producer, or publicist. Skinny actresses, that was his thing then? I wanted to cry, and I opened my mouth, but he spoke before I could register anything. “Because honestly, you’re thin enough. It’s not like that costume in the movie was supposed to make you look thin. You had a baby in your arms the whole time, so, you tell me who told you to lose all that weight. You kind of scared me tonight, Claire,” he said and jaw clenching in a way I’ve only seen when he was acting. And my mouth only dropped more.  
I took me a moment to remember what language I spoke. I’ve never been asked that question, never been asked why I had to go in lose weight, always why I hadn’t lost more. Or a congratulations on losing so much weight, but here Tom was, disappointed in me for doing so. “Well…No one really. I mean, I just…” I sighed and rubbed my arm, still feeling so huge and so small under his gaze. Those green eyes were icy blue now. I hated them. That was a lie. I looked back into his eyes, which were showing express interest in what I had to say. I swallowed hard and shrugged. “I just felt like…people, women in the movie were so tiny…and all these dresses they’ve been making me wear, I looked so…and I’ve been so busy, I barely sleep, I-” he stopped me, putting up a hand and sighed. Apparently, my eyes had gotten red, getting very uncomfortable with the conversation.  
“Darling, I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I looked down and I heard him sighing again. I heard his shoes and felt his arms around me, and he hugged me, as I wiped my face. No real crying, just got a little upset. Who wouldn’t, hearing that from him? “I’m sorry, I know, it’s hardly my business, I just…you’re new to this Claire, and I’d feel completely responsible if anything happened to you,” he said as I hugged him back. I tried to make myself smile, putting myself back in the car, riding alongside him, his coat as my blanket. He was looking out for me. “Sorry if I sound like you gran,” he said and pulled away, looking down on me and made a stern face, face all scrunched up and I laughed. “Look at you!” He said to me, his voice going up three octaves in a horrid American accent and I could help but keep laughing as he pinched my cheek. “Who’s been feeding you, eh? Need to get some meat on ya bones!” He continued and I could have fallen over, laughing.   
“Tom!” I squealed and hit him playfully and his face relaxed, smiling. I calmed down and looked at his torso, which was my eye level. “Seriously though…I think I’m only so choked up because,” I looked up at him, his eyes warm and green again. Must have been the temperature. “No one’s ever said that to me before in my life,” I said and shrugged and he frowned, running a hand through his dark hair. Oh I hated it that dark, dark and long. He was always handsome, no matter what the hair on his head and face looked like, but the hair was Loki’s not Tom’s. “No one’s ever told me that whatever I looked like was fine before. Never,” I said and looked at my bare feet. They were freezing. He was silent for a moment and he cleared his throat.  
“Then, it’s settled,” he said and I looked up at him. “My bedroom and bathroom are that way,” I damn near blushed, and I knew he saw me do it. “Take a warm bath, find some clothes for bed, and I’ll be in here, making you something to fatten you up,” he said and his hands were on my back again, pushing me gently in the direction of his bedroom.  
“Tom, you rea-”  
“That’s an order, princess. Go on,” he said and turned his back to me, making the statement final, and I cracked a huge grin. Sure, bed would have been the first thing I would have chose, but a hot bath, then have some of Tom’s famous cooking? It would be worth it.   
I did as I was told, and with my hair wet, wearing my own underwear, and a shirt I found of Tom’s I looked at myself in the mirror and made a face. He was tall, but that didn’t excuse my ass. It was hanging right out of the shirt, so I looked again in his drawers, finding a pair of pajama bottoms with a drawstring, not like I needed it. Tom was always so thin, and this proved it. My thighs and backside barely fit in them, but more ridiculously, the legs went on forever, and I almost laughed at myself in the mirror, but what else could I do? I walked back out to the kitchen and Tom smiled at me, setting the table, but as he really looked me over, he laughed. He told me I looked like a toddler, and I called him a mutant.  
We had dinner, Tom insisting that I finish at least one plate before I was allowed back to sleep, and I did finish most of it, but the yawning came back to me. The apartment was freezing though, and I hadn’t dried my hair. I must have looked cranky, and Tom sent me to bed, but I fussed and insisted on doing the dishes. I said I wouldn’t sleep until I cleaned up, and it would give him a turn in the bathroom as well. I washed up as he showered, and alone, I was smiling to myself. I had a career ahead of me, sure I was a glorified extra in the movie I had just finished filming, but that was a good thing, for my first film. I could properly audition for something, with Kenneth Branagh’s name on my resume. What more could a girl ask for? Claire Flanagan, Marvel Movie actress. I was washing, and I heard two buzzes and I dried my hands, hearing a phone. I assumed it was mine, and I walked over to my purse, which was somewhere in the hallway, but in the dark hallway, it was obvious I was not the one with a new text message.   
Tom’s phone was lowing in the dark, and God damn me for doing so, but I peeked. IPhones were horrid devices if you wanted you texts to remain a secret. Maybe there was a way you could hide them, I wouldn’t know. Until now, I barely had the cash to eat everyday. Whatever, regardless, I peeked, and saw that the text was from Kat Dennings. Beautiful, funny, smart, wise-cracking Kat Dennings. And in that moment, stupid text, my heart hurt reading it. Why? I don’t know. The text was simple, Kat was leaving the party just now, said she didn’t even see him leave. It wasn’t like they were dating. I mean, they had dated a while back but, still. And why did I even care? Tom and I, we. Well, I had no idea. We were co-workers…and I looked towards the hallway where Tom’s bedroom was. He was still in the shower, I could hear the water from the en suite.   
I made it back to the kitchen quickly and continued cleaning dishes. Such an idiot. Getting all worked up over nothing. And there he was, still in the shower, not a care in the world, that dangerous Tom Hiddleston. Did I like him like that? Well, of course I did, he was Tom. Hiddles. But was that still a fan girl? Was it grown-up of me to think like that, now they we were familiar with each other? I was thinking too much of it. It was nothing, he was just very kind and thoughtful, and happened to be handsome, tall, and British. And talented. And smart. And his ass was nice to look at.   
I shook my head as I heard the water go off down the hall and continued cleaning, just wiping down the counter space and table. A moment later he returned in a bathrobe. He was smiling, all bright and fresh. Oh God damn him. I smiled back and he looked around. “Look at that, I should keep you here, little housemaid,” he said and I guffawed at him, rolling my eyes. He laughed right back and shook his head. “So, it seems you’ve taken my only pajamas,” he said and I squeaked.  
“Oh, I can go change, these are so long on me anyway…” I suggested and he shook his head.   
“No, no, I usually don’t sleep in them anyway, more comfortable sans bottoms,” he said and it took me a second, but I blushed. I did know that fact about Tom, he did sleep nude. I gave a giggle and shook my head.  
“So, the full monty under there?” I asked him and pulled at the terrycloth lightly and he laughed.  
“No..no, I figure I would be decent around a lady. Got pants on,” he said and I raised an eyebrow. He sighed and looked up. “Underwear, I’m wearing underwear Claire.” He said, like a child being corrected by his mother. I laughed and shook my head.  
“Just wanted to be clear. Come on, where am I sleeping? I’m freezing and tired,” I told him and he looked right down at me.  
“Freezing? Are you really? I’m sorry. I never turn on the heat,” he said and spun, reaching for the thermostat.   
“No…no, need for that, I just need a big blanket,” I said and he grinned.  
“I still have my jacket from earlier,” he suggested playfully and I swatted at him.  
“In that case, I’ll take what really kept me warm in the car,” I said, a bit cheeky, I know it, but he seemed amused enough by it.   
“I have to get up early tomorrow,” he warned me and I shrugged.  
“That’s fine, I have to as well, have to make you a nice yummy breakfast,” I told him and linked arms with him. Oh he smelled so good. I might steal his soap while I’m here. I walked him into his bedroom, and he let go of my arm, moving the covers, and motioning me into the bed. And in the best way possible, I slept like a baby. Maybe there was still some wine in my system, not likely, that helped me doze off, maybe it was the warm meal, or the hot bath, or the wonderful mattress I laid on. But all that, I knew letting Tom drape his arm around me as I cuddled the blankets for warmth, that helped me sleep for the rest of the morning, and unfortunately, most of the morning. I had forgotten about my insecurity during the night, how I felt seeing that text from Tom’s bombshell of an ex-girlfriend. Because if I kept my mouth shut, and my eyes forward, I could keep this friendship forever. Tom, above all, had been a great protector, a great buddy. Any girl could date him, sleep with him, but he would always be my friend.   
Well, so I thought.


End file.
